King of the Goold's
by Eilidh17
Summary: Jack and Daniel fall foul of Asgard Technology and its left to the rest of the team to help them. Trouble and mayhem abound!
1. Chapter 1

Series: King of the Goold's

Series: King of the Goold's.  
Authors: Amberfly and Eilidh17  
Category: General.  
Warnings: Occasional bad language. It's Jack!  
Feedback: Definitely.

An idea we had one night! I hope that we will continue!

In his long career as a soldier, Jack considered that he'd both taught and learned many things. Some he admitted, he'd paid lip service to only. Yes Sir, No sir, three bags full, sir. Other's he squirreled away in his subconscious, retrieving when the need arose. How to drag his sorry ass through a Middle Eastern desert until help arrived was high on his cerebral list. Although, he cheerfully conceded, some things he'd learnt had no use at all.

The finer art of peeling a mountain of potatoes, one eye half shut courtesy of a pissed marine sprung to mind. As a younger man, he'd often learnt his lessons the hard way. His old drill sergeant grabbed the scruff of his neck more than once and purred, "Take the Duke's advice, airman, life is hard, it's harder if you're stupid." Jack found it hard to argue with logic like that.

Being a prankster, some of his learning curves were just plain adolescent. For instance, Jack still wasn't quite sure how many drinks he needed to scull before collapsing shit- faced into an inebriated coma. He was always too drunk to keep score. Jack knew that's what your teammates were for. To watch your six, despite the fact they were rat assed and barely standing themselves. That's okay; they knew there were plenty of SP's happy to escort them safely to their warm beds.

However, there were things he knew that couldn't be taught to rawboned recruits. They were instinctive, intuitive. Either you got it or you didn't. Identify the threat. If it is, make a decision. Do I need to eliminate it? If not, will it eliminate me?

Devastating in its simplicity.

However, to be fair, simple, complex, it was all the same to Jack. He did what was needed -- end of discussion.

Yes indeed. Jack O'Neill was a glass half full kinda guy. He had a happy knack of knowing how hard he could yank that metaphorical tiger's tail, before it bit back and swallowed his career. Stripes, teeth, claws an' all.

He occasionally crossed that fine line and he knew it. With a shit-eating grin, Jack didn't care; he could charm the birds from the trees. His Irish Granny had taught him, nobody plans to fail they just fail to plan, and Jack lived by her motto.

Mostly.

However, with the expected comes the unexpected. Fate can play a mean game of Contract Bridge when she puts her mind to it, and she trumped the SGC beautifully.

Weeks later, after all the excitement had died down, and he and Daniel had been restored to their former glory, Jack still wondered if it had all been a late night, anchovy- induced figment of his beer- addled imagination. This, he never discounted. Anchovies have been known to be tricky critters. It's all that darn salt.

If anyone had dared tell Jack O'Neill he'd have traipsed across the galaxy as an irritating eleven year old, dressed as a mini, cross-dressing Goa'uld, he'd have popped them on the nose. Or worse. Probably much worse. To make matters worse, he had spent much of the time dodging Jacob Carter, who for reasons Jack was never going to mention, held him by the scruff of his neck, occasionally aiming ill-tempered swats at his backside.

The only thing that made this image bearable was that Jacob had an equally firm hold on Daniel. Since Daniel was only seven years old, Jack had at least been the boss of someone.

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

Series: King of the Goolds - 02#  
Authors: Amberfly and Eilidh17  
Category: General.  
Warnings: None.  
Feedback: Yes, please.

SG1 received some juicy intel for a planet they called PX-13144  
among other things, and acted upon it with good faith. After all,  
it's what they do. Daniel was agog. Sam positively raring to go.  
Teal'c interested, in a sedate, Jaffa kinda way. Jack…not so much.

Any intel from the Tok'ra tended to give the colonel gas. Still, he  
didn't have much say in the matter; article nine of their treaty and  
all. Sucking it up and plastering a bite me' smile on his face, the  
colonel bore his chocolate brown eyes into General Hammond, praying  
subliminal thoughts would work a miracle.

Predictably, they didn't. It was the drill sergeant all over again.

Therefore… SG1 had a go.

Things however, didn't go quite according to plan. The intel was  
flawed, in oh so many ways.

Nothing could have ever prepared SG1 for what happened on that  
planet. Even with all his years of expertise and considerable street  
smarts, Jack still wouldn't have been able buy a clue. PX-13144 had  
a nasty surprise in store for the colonel and his resident  
archeologist, and it happened so quickly, their heads spun. Actually,  
their heads shrunk along with the rest of their bodies. Arms, legs,  
feet, fingers, and other assorted bits and pieces.

The carefully hidden time capsule that had the Tok'ra so excited  
wasn't of Goa'uld construction at all.

Nuts.

Nirrti had never laid a glossy, back painted fingernail on it. The  
much-anticipated capsule had been a ruse. Loki's idiotic assistant,  
Puck, suffered an intergalactic brain freeze. Bored without his  
mentor in madness, Puck decided he wanted to study Jack O'Neill's ATA  
gene. Keep his hand in meddling as it were. Mindful of why he was  
alone, ala, Loki's spectacular cloning failure, he plotted and  
schemed afresh. On the run from his fellow Asgard, he left a false  
trail for the Tok'ra to follow. Knowing Nirrti's history with SG1,  
Puck assumed correctly that the Tok'ra would take the bait to the SGC  
and implore them to investigate the cryptic messages. Then, he'd  
spring his cunning trap.

However, if Loki was the prince of morons, Puck was the king. With a  
puff of smoke, his ruse failed in spectacular style. When Daniel  
opened the capsule, Jack peering over his shoulder, it malfunctioned.  
Of course it did. Instead of merely checking for the ATA gene, it  
attempted to re arrange their molecular structures.

So close.

Nirrti would have been terribly impressed.

Teal'c and Sam were mercifully unaffected by Puck's blunder. Jack and  
Daniel weren't quite so fortunate. When everyone finally awoke,  
blistering headaches not withstanding, one-half of SG1 looked very  
different. The colonel and Doctor Jackson weren't going to have to  
worry about shaving for a while. Every cloud has its silver lining.  
Not that anyone on SG1 mentioned clichés.

That just irritated folk.

Baffled, angry, and worried, Sam and Teal'c searched their minds for  
a solution. Reluctant to accept what lay in front of her, Sam Carter  
checked and rechecked the blackened capsule, while Teal'c paced the  
laboratory in a predatory fashion. Something Sam didn't fail to  
notice as she ground her teeth savagely.

"Teal'c, these boys can't really be Daniel and the colonel? I mean,  
these kids must have taken their tags, right?"

"I do not believe so, Major Carter."

"Wait…what do you not believe? That they are Colonel O'Neill and  
Daniel?"

"Believe that a child would be able to remove dog tags from a grown  
man."

"So?"

"These sleeping children are in fact, O'Neill and Daniel Jackson."

"This cannot be good."

"Indeed."

Jacob's Tel'tak had hovered overhead as agreed in the tumultuous  
meeting. When Sam sent her frantic message, Jacob briefly wondered if  
she'd eating something illegal, but came a running anyway. Ringing  
down to the planet, and looking around with the room with a shiver,  
he pleaded. "Sam, please tell me those kids aren't who I think they  
are?" Seeing his stunned daughter give her golden head a nod, he  
muttered sourly, "I asked you not to tell me that."

Handing over the smoking bullet of a capsule with the half-assed  
theory she'd thrown together, Jacob seethed with fury. Loki's idiotic  
assistant had managed to dupe the Tok'ra and SGC far too easily.  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he heard Selmac preach. "Jacob, what  
did I warn you? Didn't I tell you not to rely on Aldwin? His intel is  
often sloppy, but no, you were too busy arguing with Colonel O'Neill  
to listen to the wisest of us all. The Tau'ri soldier is a thoroughly  
irritating man; can you imagine what he must have been like as a  
child? Take my advice pretend you didn't notice him. No one could  
blame you."

Tempting as that sounded, Jacob knew his daughter might object. No,  
it would be up to him to tidy up the mess, with Selmac laughing at  
him every five minutes. This he could have tolerated, but the thought  
of the up-coming conversation with George had him tongue-tied.  
Generally speaking, he doubted the general would be pleased. He sure  
as eggs wouldn't have been. Seeing half his team writes up the  
mission reports with crayons might push the bounds of friendship.

Sliding a shifty look at his daughter's paling face; Jacob decided  
defense was the best offense. "Sam, does George know?"

With a sheepish look on her face, Sam Carter couldn't help the subtle  
whine to her voice. "Pardon me? The General? Well, since the Tok'ra  
massively screwed up, I thought I'd leave it to you?" Looking at her  
boots, admiring how boot-ish they were, Sam sighed, defeat staring  
her in the face. "Just going, Dad."

"Good girl. Teal'c, what have you found?"

"I have found nothing."

"Fine, keep up the good work." Jacob fought the desire to roll his  
eyes. "Should you find anything that might throw me a bone, let me  
know?"

"There are no bones here, Jacob Carter."

"Give me strength."

Studying his slowly awakening friends, Jacob couldn't help but think  
how adorable Danny was. Smacking his lips together, and knuckling his  
eyes, the tiny archeologist with the baby blue eyes had the look of  
an angel fallen from heaven. Jacob's paternal feelings stirred and he  
resisted the urge to ruffle the messy, fine hair.

Jack, he noted, had no angelic characteristics what so ever. He  
already had the look of a little ruffian. Snub nose covered in  
freckles, and his reddish blonde hair sticking up in tufts of  
disobedience, he was no angel. Where Danny moaned softy, Jack let out  
a howl of indignation, followed by an anaconda type yawn. Struggling  
to his feet and palming his eyes, Jack pouted like the eleven-year-  
old he currently was. "Huh? Mom?" Eyeing Jacob suspiciously he  
muttered, "Nope, definitely not my mom."

Doctor Daniel Jackson's eyes flew open and looking around, blinked  
quickly with confusion. "Huh?" Sneezing and sniffling revoltingly  
loud, using that time-honored tradition of small children everywhere,  
Daniel found his sleeve at the end of his arm convenient to wipe his  
runny nose. "Mommy?"

Rolling his eyes, Jacob muttered," Why couldn't they say daddy? They  
are just doing to this annoy me, I know it!" Looking at the shiny  
trail of snot, Jake remembered why he found children…  
disarming. "Eww, Daniel! Com'ere." Snagging the little boy close, and  
dragging out his Tok'ra issue, plain brown handkerchief, he  
thoroughly wiped Danny's nose and face. "Ask for a handkerchief next  
time, okay, kiddo?"

Eyes downcast and bottom lip trembling, Daniel crept closer to Jack,  
and in a tiny voice asked, "Who are you? Why are you wiping my nose  
for me? Wait, I know you, don't I? "

Pushing the limpet known as Daniel away, a scowl plastered on his  
face, Jack looked down and snapped, "Oh, for crying out loud! Why do  
my damn pants keep falling down?"

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Series: King of the Goolds 03#

Series: King of the Goolds 03#  
Authors: Amberfly and Eilidh17  
Category: Kidfic.  
Warnings: None.  
Feedback: That would be splendid.

Jacob heaved a great sigh, and folding his arms over his chest,  
studied the two small forms huddled in the corner of the  
Tel'tak. "Holy Hannah, how can any of this be possible? A little  
Daniel Jackson is bad enough, bit a little Jack O'Neill. Why me? What  
could I have done to deserve that? Shouldn't this be the SGC's  
problem? They're just hoping I won't kill Jack before we can fix  
this mess. I have half a mind to ring George Hammond aboard and let  
him deal with these two."

Several long hours had passed since Sam's frantic call had bought him  
to PX-13144, and trudging through the mud and rain back to the  
Tel'tak, Jacob complained silently to Selmac, "Well, this is just  
typical! Why wouldn't it rain and storm? This way we are all wet and  
miserable." The higher he hauled Danny up his rib cage, the more the  
little boy wriggled down, pummeling Jacob's kidneys with his feet,  
and sniffling into his ear.

Jacob's patience was fast running out. "Danny! Keep still will you!  
Now, where's the handkerchief I gave you?"

"Her'tis'!" Producing the soggy, hideous piece of material, Danny  
eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Thank you, Daniel. Well? "Not liking the look on the small boys  
face, Jacob narrowed his eyes in a silent warning. "Dan-iel" Drawing  
the word out in paternal irritation.

Not that Danny noticed or cared. "Why? D'd cha' want it back?" With a  
flourish, Danny produced the well-used, snot-infested handkerchief,  
and promptly shoved it into Jacob's face. With the tiniest of grins,  
the little boy sweetly said, "Blow, Jacob! Good boy!"

"Jacob, glass half full, remember." Selmac hadn't enjoyed himself so  
much in years.

"Selmac, why don't you shut up?" Jacob thought a black coffee would  
wipe the smirk from his face.

The weather turned even more appalling, and the slow walk back to the  
Tel'tak exhausted them all. Not all of the merry travelers were that  
uncomfortable though. The revolting handkerchief, a gift for life  
clutched in his hand, Danny snuggled into Jacob's shoulder, snoring  
with the gusto of a child with adenoidal problems. Completely  
protected by his oversized jacket, little feet occasionally crippling  
Jake's kidneys, he was out for the count.

Jack stumbled through the mud next to Jacob, wide-awake and very  
suspicious. His hand protectively touching Daniel's leg at all times,  
the little colonel shivered under his jacket as the wind howled  
around his ears. "Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Crap."

"Language!"

Jacob had left his ship so quickly he hadn't thought to bring a  
jacket, and grumbling under Daniel's dead weight, he winced as the  
rain coursed down his neck. "Things I do for these people."

Slipping again, Jack stamped his feet, the mud splattering Jacob's  
nifty Tok'ra outfit. "Crap! Are we there yet?" Jack constantly bumped  
into Jacob's hip, part of him needing the physical contact of the  
vaguely familiar man.

"Language!" Jacob shuddered. For a brief moment, he imagined the  
O'Neill family holidays. Quizzed constantly if they were there yet,  
the back seat constantly kicked by bony little knees, Jonathon  
O'Neill would have driven his parent's nuts. "How George puts up with  
you is beyond me." Quivering, and feeling a pang of sympathy for the  
late Mr. and Mrs. O'Neill, he saw the Tel'tak and bit down a  
whoop. "Ah! At last! Come on, inside, kids."

"Last chance to lose the little colonel, Jacob!" snorted Selmac," I  
will swear he was with us last time we looked!" If a Tok'ra could  
smirk, then Selmac was smirking. He was being thoroughly  
entertained. "Too late, old friend, he's in!"

"Black coffee and a Russian cigarette I think." Jacob felt his sense  
of humor with his old friend start to wane.

Tenderly putting down the sleeping archeologist masquerading as a  
buzz saw, Jacob turned his full attention onto Jack. "Mm." Jack  
resembled a drowned rat. His ginger tinted blonde hair plastered  
against his skull, droplets of water running down the back of his  
neck, the little colonel looked red nosed and miserable. Studiously  
eyeing his intended victim, Jacob decided it were time he took  
command of the situation. "After all," he informed Selmac, snippily  
throwing back his rain drenched shoulders, "I am his superior  
officer."

"Good luck! Does he bite?"

"Okay, com'ere." Deftly grabbing a warm blanket and Jack's arm at the  
same time, Jacob ignored the comic relief, and began to strip the  
colonel's wet clothes. Years of combat training were put to good use,  
and despite Jack's squirming, he couldn't break the ex-general's iron  
grip. "More you struggle the tighter I'm going to hold onto ya, Jack.  
Give it up, little airman."

"Nope! Watch it! Oh no, you don't! Give me back my pants!" Jack put  
up the good fight, but for once, he wasn't too big for his britches.

Not swayed by the boy's insistent protests, Jacob continued removing  
wet, clinging clothes, until Jack stood bare, except for his  
regulation, Air force boxers. Which instantly slid down. "Oops, too  
much information there." Tactfully averting his eyes as Jack  
squeaked, and hauled them up, he battled Jack's drenched hair next."  
How did you get so wet? Didn't you keep under your jacket like I told  
you? Never mind, you never listen to a word I say. Keep still! I'm  
only trying to dry your hair!" This was one fight Jacob was never  
going to lose.

Hair towel dried and resembling a demented porcupine, Jack's eyes  
were bright with tears. "Don' like you!" His skinny shoulders  
heaving, he glowered at Jacob, and deciding the stinging swat to his  
butt must have been accidental, hoped the other people he'd met were  
nicer. "Where's the others? The scary lookin' linebacker and  
Blondie? "Dragging up his blanket to his pointed little chin, Jack  
clutched the blanket with one fist and his boxers with the other.  
Gathering as much of his tattered dignity as possible, he slid down  
the wall to his butt. At least his boxers couldn't fall any further.  
Fidgeting under his blanket, he moaned, "On. For cryin' out loud,  
where's a pin when you need it?"

Jacob sighed, and thinking briefly, decided it would be best if he  
ignored the Blondie comment altogether. The linebacker he figured was  
a true assessment. "Sam and Teal'c are checking a few things, don't  
worry, they'll be here in no time. So, kiddo, talk to me?" Jacob  
hunkered to his knees, and wondered what he could say to the  
suspicious brown-eyed boy staring at him. "Do you remember me at all?"

Jack shot Jake a skeptical look. "Nope! Okay, kinda. Maybe,  
I s'pose. You sound funny though! And you're wearing a dress!  
Suspicion oozing from every pore, Jack O'Neill scowled back  
furiously. "You look sooo stoopid."

Bristling at the rude retort, Jacob's sympathy backed out, and his  
paternal outrage took its park. "Well, I remember you, so can the  
attitude." Pulling himself up and flicking at a piece of imaginary  
flint on his ornate tunic, Jacob growled his warning. "Clear, airman?"

"Yeah, what-ever." Jack rolled his eyes in the universal sign of pre-  
pubescent ho-hum.

"Whatever? Oh please!" Jacob heard Selmac guffaw and hoped his  
mandible was twisted.

Fixing Jacob with as deadly a glare a porcupine could manage at short  
notice, Jack screwed up his face in thought. Biting his lip, his brow  
wrinkled, he asked, "Who's an airman? Me?" Nodding at Daniel, "Him?"  
Wriggling his boxer-free butt further back, the little colonel ducked  
away from Jacob's out stretched hand and asked, "So, if we are  
friends, why are you asking if I remember you?"

Jacob smiled. "That's my boy." Looking hard at the wary boy's face,  
he felt a flash of pride for his bravado. Even in the midst of a  
major shrinkage disaster, Jack O'Neill thought fast. "I think Danny's  
asleep now, Jack, how about you let him sleep while we chat, man to  
man?" Jacob patted at the space next to him, "Why don't you come over  
here?" A quick shake of Jack's head told him the boy wasn't up to  
that level of trust yet. "Okay, stay there then. "Jacob snagged the  
last of the blankets and holding it out at arms length, added  
softly, "I think another one will make sure he stays that way."

Jack licked his fingers, and savoring the last of an ancient, hairy  
energy bar he'd found in Daniel's jacket, kicked his legs out in  
front of him. Never taking his eyes off Jacob, he said  
succinctly, "His name is Daniel, not Danny! "

"Okay, sport." Deciding he needed to make the next move, Jacob  
crossed the small space of the cargo hold, and lovingly tucked the  
blanket around Daniel's chest. "There you go, Danny, snug as a bug in  
a rug." Smiling at the sleeping child, and keeping his voice calm and  
positive, Jacob pretended not to notice Jack's grip on the boy  
increase. "So, are you hungry for something tastier than that  
prehistoric energy bar? I happen to have candy with your name on it!"

Curiosity and a remembered dislike of energy bars got the better of  
Jack, and he slowly released his grip on Daniel's hand. Blinking  
quickly, he demanded, "There's candy called Jack?" Craning his neck  
and peering at Jacob, Jack's eyes rounded with childish awe. Yanking  
his blanket up around his shoulders, he waited for a reply to his  
astounding question. Cool,' he thought, hope its caramel.' As an  
after thought, "No nuts."

"Well, not exactly, it's just a Hershey bar, but it's still yours."  
Grinning, and throwing the candy into Jack's lap, Jacob watched as  
the boy tore it open with his teeth and neatly divided it in half.  
Seeing the quizzical look, Jack rolled a shoulder  
dismissively, "Daniel and me share everything! Candy, blankets,  
babes, you know, everything."

"Babes, huh? Well it's good to know nothing's changed then, Jack."

"Damn straight."

"Language! I won't tell you again."

"Whatever."

Dropping his head onto his chest with a groan, Jacob said  
desperately, "Samantha? Are you back yet? Teal'c?" Hearing no  
response and looking at Jack's surprised expression, he muttered,"  
Has to be someone else's turn to mind you by now." Exasperated with  
getting nowhere fast, Jake felt his paternal patience begin to thin.  
Palming his eye, he took a deep breath, and decided on the blunt  
approach. Okay, enough of this crap. "Jack, O'Neill, you will talk to  
me, and then you will listen to me. That's an order."

Wagging his finger in the air with delight, his hand slapped across  
his mouth, Jack crowed, "Jacob! Language! Lowering his eyes at the  
scowl instantly sent his way; he swallowed softly, "Oops." Figuring  
it wasn't in his best interests to push the dress wearing, wild eyed  
guy too far, he said boldly, "Not gonna tell you nothin' though."  
Face turning cunning, he added, "unless course, I get another one of  
those Jack bars!"

"That a fact? Fair trade I suppose." Patting down his tunic and  
retrieving another candy bar, Jacob threw Jack a predatory  
look. "Everything has a cost, son. So, start yakking."

"I don't talk to strangers," Jack blurted out, cold defiance peering  
out from beneath his shaggy, bangs. "Danny doesn't either." Jack's  
grip on Danny increased and the sleeping boy reacted by moaning  
softly. "Don'! Tellin'!"

The last thing Jacob wanted was for Daniel to wake and distract Jack  
even more. "Careful there, son, we don't want to wake Daniel".  
Appealing to Jack's legendary Daniel radar, he whispered behind his  
hand, "He's just a little kid, needs his naptime." Jacob needed to  
find out what memories the boys had retained of their former  
existence, but one at a time. Jack was the oldest, so he'd work on  
him first.

"Jack?" Jacob eased himself onto the floor to sit cross-legged in  
front of the boy, "Can you tell me your full name?"

"No." Jack replied indignantly.

"Okay," Jacob sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "can you  
tell me what you remember before you woke up in the lab?"

"No."

"No, you don't want to tell me? Or no, you don't remember?"

Jack cocked his head to the side, a cheeky smile crossing his  
face, "Just… no."

Snatching the unopened candy from Jack's fingers, Jacob shrugged, and  
stood up slowly. "Okay, we'll just have to put these Jack bars away  
for a while then." The little colonel's face looked so stubborn and  
defiant; Jacob struggled not to laugh aloud. Well,' he thought to  
himself, knowing Jack O'Neill, he won't be able to stay quiet for  
long.' Tearing open the candy bar, he bit the chocolate savoring the  
forbidden taste. "Can it, Selmac, this is sound military tactics."

"Dad?" Sam's voice floated across the PA system and interrupted  
Jacob's short-lived moment of victory over the complaining Selmac.

"Hey!" Jack whirled his head around, and patted at his chest. Toying  
with the spot his radio normally sat, he frowned, an important memory  
scratching at the corners of his mind. "Where's my radio? It's gone!  
Did you take it? You did, didn't you! Oh boy! Oh boy!" Jumping to his  
feet, Jack's eyes flashed with fury. "I am so telling! You are sooo  
gonna git it!"

"Git it? Jack O'Neill, will you kindly stop talking like one of the  
Beverly Hillbillies! " Jacob took a tentative step, but pulled up  
short, warned off by the boy's raised finger. "You were raised in  
Minnesota for goodness sake!"

"Ahhtt! Keep ya distance there, Granny Clampett." Jack's eyes took on  
the look of something Jacob wasn't quite so sure about. A disheveled,  
ginger tomcat possibly. All bluff, spit, and itsy bitsy claws.

"Granny? Clampett? Oh, please! Who exactly are you intending on telling?"

Whatever paper-thin patience Jacob possessed reached it use  
by date.

This question stumped the little colonel. "Huh? The Navy, of course!  
Who else? That radio thingamajig belongs to the Navy. I think."  
Confusion crossing his face, Jack knuckled his eyes and brushed at  
the hot tears rolling down his cheeks." Give it back!"

"The Navy? Riight, settle down. Here you go, can't have you keel  
hauled." Jacob handed the radio over, realizing Jack's memories were  
not all there. Jack's bravado was an act, his defense mechanism in  
trying to cope with his confusion. "See, there you go, you have it  
back now." Nodding his head, he looked at the radio and said  
kindly, "Well, click that button, sailor, and talk to Sam." Rolling  
his eyes and muttering under his breath why bother, he  
added, "Blondie?"

"Dad? Selmac?"

"Here, Sam."

"Is everything alright there?

"Been better, Sam." With a shrug, he added," Cap'n Jack and I were  
just having a chat." Jacob chanced a quick look at Jack who was  
still eyeing him with suspicion. "Yep, a nice short, confusing chat.'

"Good, I think. Teal'c and I have taken a good look around the lab  
and I think I've found something that might help us track the  
renegade down. Puck, that lame duck, has left a flight plan, more of  
a map really, of gate addresses. I think he's been tagging planets  
with probes all designed to be activated when they detect someone  
with the ATA gene."

Jacob shook his head, "Sam, that's impossible. How could he hope to  
detect the ATA gene without a sample of DNA?"

"From the notes that I've been able to access, the probe has a  
proximity alert that sends out a scan when individuals get within  
range. It's all fairly theoretical to me, but this is the Asgard  
we're talking about. Daniel's help with translating would be useful  
at this moment."

Stealing a glance at the two children, he sighed audibly, "Well,  
kiddo, I don't think Daniel's going to be of much help to you. From  
the brief conversation I've just had with Jack, I don't think their  
memories are completely intact." Moving to face the view screen on  
the bridge, he looked out at the bare ground in front of the Tel'tak  
and beyond to the distant range of mountains. "Sam, can you download  
any of the information Puck has left behind?"

"Already done, Dad. Teal'c and I have pretty much tapped into  
everything we can here and we're about to head back to you."

"Good work. I don't think we really have many options open to us at  
this point. The only person that can fix this mess is that half wit,  
Puck." Forcing his attention back towards the two boys, Jacob noticed  
Jack had succumbed to the days events, and clutching his radio,  
blinked tiredly back at him.

"Well, Jack, looks like we're going on an Asgard hunt." Jacob shook  
his head and waited for Sam and Teal'c to board the ship. "It's okay  
though, we'll find the little meddler and you and Danny will be fixed  
in no time.

"Daniel, his name is Daniel!"

"Yep, that's what I said. Daniel."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Authors: Amberfly and Eilidh17  
Series: King of the Goolds 04#  
Title: Lord of the Underwear.  
Warnings. Silliness abounds. Occasional reference to a bodily  
function.  
Category: General.

"Jack, please, son! Be reasonable!" Jacob threw his hands in the air,  
eyes a little wild and desperate. Holding Jack's Air Force boxers  
between his fingers, he snapped, "We cannot pin these shorts to those  
pants! They are just too darn big!"

Jack's eyes rolled back into his head, his mortification  
complete. "Hey, if I packed em once, then I'll pack em again."  
Wriggling his hips and daring to glance at the direction of his groin  
area, Jack lowered his squeak to a more manly level, "So, there!"

"What's wrong with your voice? It's because you got drowned isn't  
it!" Jacob pinched his nose and mentally counted to ten. "Give me  
strength!" He'd managed to get the boys into their new clothes, but  
it had been a battle. Jack had refused blankly to go  
commando. "What?" he'd asked, his face a mirror of confusion. "What  
am I? A bloody marine?"

Jacob snapped his eyes shut beads of sweat beading on his hairless  
lip. "Jack O'Neill, if you cuss one more time, I swear you'll be  
licking soap from the roof of your mouth!" Folding his arms over his  
chest, Jacob converged on the gulping little colonel. "Any flavor  
take your fancy?"

With a shake of his head, Jack clamped his jaws shut."Mpffhh! "

"Figured that might be the case." With a casual toss in the air, the  
ex-general pocketed his bar of Tok'ra soap.

Sam could see the morning turning catastrophic. Her peacekeeping hat  
pulled firmly over her ears; she attempted to sooth Jack's ruffled  
feathers. "Now, Jack! Dad just means you will have to go without  
underwear until we can find something better." Leaning close, her  
breath ghosting Jack's ear, she whispered her final warning, "Oh,  
doesn't matter what flavor you pick, they're all horrible!"

With a shudder and casting a furtive glance at Jacob, Cap'n Jack  
conceded defeat. With a wide-eyed blink, the young sea dog opened the  
top of his over the top gold pants, and staring with suspicion at his  
groin, muttered, "I don't remember doing that in the Navy!"

If Jack was unenthusiastic, Daniel bordered on delirious. "I like my  
butt feeling the material," he chortled, waggling his bottom back and  
forth in a chicken dance. Grinning, and with his seven-year-old tact  
bubbling to the surface, Danny discussed his anatomy cheerfully.

Jack listened to his little friend with grim horror. His eleven-year-  
old sensibility outraged, he'd have preferred to chew his arm off  
than discuss his privates out loud.

Glaring with loathing at the silky gold pants, and the shiny, purple  
bolero, Capn'Jack O'Neill eventually saw reason. Dressed in his  
trashy Goa'uld garb, he kept one hand tucked into his waistband, as a  
matter of precaution. Mentally picturing his pants followed by his  
over sized boxers sliding to the floor, his eleven year old's blood  
turned to ice. Born with a fighter's spirit, and like the ace he was,  
Jack didn't go down easy.

"This sucks!" In an act of childish rebellion, a purple, glossy, over  
the top button flew across the floor. Patting his torn vest, Jack  
murmured,"Oops! Incoming!"

"Yeah, incoming!" Daniel parroted Jack happily, word for word.

"Shut up, Daniel!" Jack rolled his eyes at Teal'c with feigned  
innocence. "What can ya do?"

"Indeed." He was having none of it.

Daniel shrugged. Chatting to himself and picking at the gold thread  
in his robe, he was in principal, un-offendable. Bored, he decided to  
ignore the cranky naval captain wannabe, and become Jacobs's right  
hand man. The ex-general was appalled. His style of parenting had  
been more... old fashioned, favoring the children should be seen but  
never heard, mode. Daniel didn't prescribe to this theory; he cared  
and shared his opinions, his complaints, and his discrete farts  
happily. He chatted like a magpie and was oblivious to Jacob's  
twitching right eye. "What is that God-awful smell?"

Shaking his head, ignoring the guffawing Selmac lurking in the  
corners of his mind, Jacob wondered if it were politically incorrect  
to gag a seven year old. Deciding to risk it, he clamped his hand  
across Daniel's mouth, and grimaced as the small boy licked his hand.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" Jacob scrubbed his licked hand over his  
head, hanging onto his rapidly fleeting patience by a thread. "Stop  
it! Okay, here's the plan. Puck is on one of these planets, so we  
just need to find which one." Walking around the control room, hands  
clasped behind his back Napoleon style, Jacob ran through the intel  
they had gathered. Puck's list of planets was neatly listed and  
extremely thorough. He'd left gate addresses and even brief  
descriptions of each world. "You nit!" Jacob muttered to  
Teal'c, "think he's ever heard of the word covert?"

Shrugging the clinging Daniel from his arm, Jacob urged the little  
boy to find Jack and continue tormenting him. Watching him skip away,  
Jacob marveled at the close bonds the boys had. Men or boys, Jack and  
Daniel plain connected.

"Okay, kids sorted. Sam, bring me those co-ordinates you found in his  
lab. Teal'c, do you know any of these planets?" With a snap of his  
fingers, the Tel'tak became the command centre, and tactics  
discussed, rejected, and finally agreed upon. The first planet  
finally selected, Sam organized the boys, and whispered into their  
ears that her dad meant business off world. She begged them to  
behave. "Daniel, honey, no more lifting your robe and showing Jack  
your butt, okay? Jack, act out, and Dad will make you walk the plank!"

With an energetic nod from Daniel, and a shrug from Jack, the  
travelers ringed down to the planet, determined to find Puck the  
duck. Called the first planet, the boys were in awe, struck by the  
busy bazaar they wandered into. Ringing down a safe distance from the  
main square, Jacob had been unaware of the llama herder who'd seen  
them arrive. Fear turning to amazement, he'd run to the village and  
breathlessly told them of his discovery.

When the troupe finally arrived in the village square, the entire  
population gathered and silently gawked at them."Ah, Dad?" Sam  
ushered the boys behind her while smiling pleasantly. Teal'c took  
point, and with his head held high, stared the chieftain with the  
ridiculous ostrich type feather in his hair, down. "We are travelers  
and mean you no harm." With an arched eyebrow, Teal'c growled," that  
does not mean however, that I cannot."

Bowing, and with his customary, lily livered manner, Abdullah, the  
weasel of a chieftain, threw open his village. "Of course, we are  
honored to have such important people visit our unworthy village."  
Kicking at ducks and geese, he groveled next to Teal'c, his ostrich  
feather wilting in the heat. Eyes darting to the left, the chieftain  
grabbed a passing crone and offered her services. "She is yours for  
the taking!"

"She is not. Leave us." Teal'c shuddered.

Dodging the kick to his ankle and the bite to his ear, Abdullah  
released his mother in law's arm. Albeit, reluctantly. "She moves  
quickly for one so fat."

Ignoring a potentially unpleasant domestic scene, Jacob swiftly  
sidestepped the cowering, cowardly, Abdullah. "Okay, we need intel  
and we need it fast." Nodding at Sam and Teal'c, he suggested they  
mingle and make themselves popular. "Find out if we are the first  
strangers these people have seen. They seem far too accepting." As an  
after thought he murmured, "Ask the mother in law, she's on the  
ball." Laughing as Abdullah slunk away, ostrich fever cruelly snapped  
in half, Jacob thought Puck would be right at home in this village.

Rapping Daniel gently on his head, he smiled and said, "I'll ask  
around the markets, and buy underwear for our farting flasher."  
Looking pointedly at SG1's brightest and best, fiddling with his  
robes, Jacob sniffed, and coughed delicately. "Daniel? What did we  
discuss on board? What do polite little archeologists not do in  
public? Especially when they are near Selmac?"

Grinning, his freckled face shining with innocence, Daniel sung  
out, "NO farting! It's rude and makes Selmac gag."

Jack collapsed.

During the initial haggling for the clothing, the boys managed to  
quietly edge away. "Okay, this is a nice shirt, Jack. Jack? Daniel?  
Boys?" Turning around, Jacob groaned as a flash of gold and purple  
darted through the crowds, fleet footed as a llama on speed.

"Holy Hannah!" Jacob heard Selmac scream with laughter.

"Dad!" Sam helpfully pointed her finger, "There they go!"

"I see them, Jacob Carter." Teal'c took after them, darting and  
weaving like a track star he probably was.

OoO

Captured and brought back to Jake's tender mercies, the boys were  
suitably chastened. Daniel hoisted on his hip, and Jack's arm firmly  
held, the Jaffa warrior ceremoniously handed them over to the  
incredulous Jacob. With a stern wag of his finger, he growled, "Okay  
that little bit of insubordination means you boys will be on kitchen  
duty for an extra shift." Herding them back towards the racks of  
brightly colored clothes, Jacob vowed to use every dish on the ship.

Twice.

Every time Jack tried to wriggle away, Jacob caught him. Wary and on  
his toes, the canny Tok'ra didn't intend on spending the hottest part  
of the day chasing hyperactive boys through the narrow alleyways.  
Hissing into Jack's ear that he was in grave danger of having his  
butt accidentally swatted, Jacob had the children temporally subdued.

Trailing silk tresses rustled in the hot breeze. Odd shaped hats,  
sturdy work boots, and shirts of every shape and size were hawked for  
sale. Rushing up to the strangers, greed and optimism etched on their  
faces, the sellers pleaded their case. "Master, this way! If you buy  
from Kareem, a thousand fleas will infest your lower body hair!"  
Understandably outraged at such a casual character assassination,  
Kareem and Hussein traded blows and insults, much to the delight of  
the boys.

Sighing and stepping over Kareem's prostrate body, Jacob enquired  
where he could purchase under garments…child sized. "For yourself?"  
wheezed the triumphant but slightly battered trader, blood trickling  
from his crooked nose.

With a steely determination, Hussein's good wife, Jezebel, beat him  
back, and with subtly and tact, picked up an undergarment the size of  
a boat sail. Batting her one eye at Jacob, she crooned, "This is  
more likely to fit a man of your manliness! Ignore my husband, his  
brain and gonads are similar in size."

Spluttering, Hussein bled some more, and slunk into the shadows to  
collapse.

Clearing his throat and wondering if anyone was going to check on the  
comatose Hussein, Jacob asked politely, "Now, I want something soft,  
not scratchy or coarse." Fingering silk shorts, the Tok'ra Selmac  
took front stage. "These are perfect; purchase the gold ones, and the  
emerald green pair with the fancy stitching." Arguing with each other  
like an old married couple, Jacob once again lost sight of his  
slippery charges.

Jack took his chances. Daniel's hand firmly clasped, they  
skedaddled. "Com'on Danny, let's make like hockey players and get the  
puck outta here." He maneuvered Danny into the centre of the bustling  
market, and smelling the food, the boys salivated. "Oh, smell that?  
Com'on, we hafta to get ourselves some of this." Gazing at the street  
hawkers with huge, desperate eyes, the runaways silently begged for  
treats. The sellers didn't mind groveling to Teal'c, but two small  
boys were another matter. Narrowing their eyes and picking up sharp  
cleavers, the vendors threatened dire consequences if they even  
considered stealing their wares.

Jack listened to the threats and thought fast. He was hungry, and  
given their dubious behavior on the planet, he doubted if supper  
would be forthcoming. Hearing his name bellowed by Jacob, he jumped,  
and glaring at the hawk nosed trader, said, "Hear that majestic roar?  
That's my Dad! He's the most feared of all System Lords! All I have  
to do is mention this disrespect and he will shred your brains! He is  
known as The Great and Powerful Oz, King of all the Goa'uld and your  
village will be in his naughty book."

The hawker listened carefully. He, like the rest of the villagers,  
came from a long line of cowards, and hearing fear and the brain  
shredding in the same sentence reduced him to tears. "Oh, young  
master, please, do not tell your father of my identical twin brother,  
Hackmed's stupidity! Here, take this food as a gift. Tell your father  
I will disembowel my brother."

Sensing an easy victory, Jack resisted the urge to hi-five his  
devoted fan, Daniel. "As punishment for your brother," Jack held a  
delicate finger to his lip and knotted his brow in thought, "he will  
hence forth be known as Dorothy!"

Bowing and scrapping, Hackmed's identical twin brother made sure the  
goat meat he cut was the leanest and juiciest. Throwing in icy  
pomegranate juice, the boys waved their hands in the air  
graciously. "Well, my good man, I may over look your insolence, if  
you can tell me where I can be made a gift of certain godly  
garments." Crooking his finger and beckoning Hackmed to come close,  
Jack explained his dilemma.

Hackmed was horrified. "What? You are bare assed? In a market place?  
In this market place? "Appalled, and casting furtive looks over his  
shoulder, Hackmed questioned the Kingly father's wisdom. "Come," he  
groveled, "I will take you to our finest robe maker, he will have  
your royal cheeks covered in no time." Grabbing Daniel's hands, the  
trader begged, "Master, do not raise your robes! Something's are best  
left private! What is that terrible smell? Has my wife's mother been  
here without my knowledge?"

While Jack and Daniel were demanding free food and comfortable, hand  
stitched boxers, the villagers whispered about the new and dangerous  
travelers. They are gods of power and cruelty, they despaired, and  
they are here to take all of our undergarments. Lord Jacob is testing  
us; he has sent his sons into our market, with Cameral the Suspect  
only one stall away! He tests us to see if we are worthy! We must  
prove we only wear the finest of under clothes, even if we do not.  
Cameral heard the whispers and stalking to various traders, demanded  
the suspect be dropped from the covert whispering. "I do not like  
camels! That is a lie!"

While the debate of Cameral's preferences raged, Sam and Teal'c  
joined in the frantic search. Hearing their names called repeatedly,  
the boys ate their treats and looked at each other with growing  
concern. "My Lord Oz, the King of the Goa'uld, sounds a little  
pissed," Jack groaned.

Daniel thought the afternoon was spiraling into unknown territory.  
Scraping his finger in his cup and scooping out the icy, pomegranate  
juice, Daniel chewed his pink stained lip thoughtfully. "Jacob  
wouldn't really smack my bottom would he? Not with my new, llama  
trimmed boxers on?"

Scanning the stalls for the boys, his face getting redder and  
angrier, Jacob found himself catapulted with hundred of pairs of  
knickers. Every color, size, and make was strewn in front of him, and  
shaking his head, he roared, "What is wrong with you people? Do I  
look like a model from Victoria's closet?"

Brushing the attacking undergarments from his head and shoulders,  
Jacob was immediately taken aback as a g-string with fur bobbles  
hooked on his collar pin and slapped him in the face. Plucking the  
offending item off, he held it in the air and muttered through  
clenched teeth, "Jack!"

OoO

All of Daniels worst dreams came to fruition. Sitting on their cots,  
dignity in tatters, the Princes of the most evil of all Goa'uld,  
rubbed their royal asses. Jacob, gigantic, pink bloomers hanging off  
his shoulder, had finally caught up with the runaways. Marching them  
back to the Tel'tak via the rings, he had made good his promise of  
accidentally swatting their llama line boxer clad butts. Horrified,  
desperate, and shifty, the colonel and his archeologist desperately  
tried wheedling out of any forthcoming unpleasantness. Taking Jack by  
the arm, Jacob assured him that'd he'd heard it all before.

Desolate, Daniel promised he'd never run away again; and definitely  
never even think about baring his backside to passing llama herders  
again. His hand over his heart, Daniel Jackson vowed never to fart in  
public whilst perched on Jacob's hip. Tears tracking down his face,  
he asked when supper was likely to be served. Running around the  
market gave him an appetite.

Red faced, Jack mumbled his contrition, and wondered how a man of his  
naval experience could possibly end up being swatted. "I'm sure there  
are rules about this! If only I had my Navy rules and regulations  
book!" Sniffing, Cap'n Jack sighed.

OoO

The kafuffle in the market place had been carefully observed.  
Watching with solemn, blinking black eyes, Puck saw SG1 trudge to the  
rings, whisked away by its bright, white lights. Swallowing  
nervously, Puck tuned out his communication device, and plotting a  
course, hoped he'd stay one-step ahead of the frightening Lord Oz and  
his team of under wear stealing avengers.

TBC...Next planet...


End file.
